A Fleeting Thing
by idleness
Summary: Dom and Kel make no promises. Written for Rachy using her prompt "Kel/Dom slow burn that doesn't catch fire" as part of Fief Goldenlake's 2016 International Exchange event.


It was in the aftermath of their Scanran jaunt that Dom's feeling for her surfaced. He supposed they'd been there for a while, maybe even since the summer last, when they first faced the killing machines. Now he thought of her most days. He assumed her fling with the Kennan lad must have finished—he'd learnt through the usual mess hall gossip that he had returned home to marry an heiress. Kennan always struck him of the scrupulously honourable type; he would not dally with a woman who wasn't his wife.

More often, though, he wondered if she would be interested in him. He knew he didn't have much to offer; not stability, not certainty, not a lot of availability, and certainly not marriage. He couldn't afford to leave the Own—the curse of a younger son—but if he was truly honest with himself, the idea of not having the sense of purpose he got from his duties scared him far more than a lack of income. Sometimes, he wondered if he even knew who he would be or what he would do without the Own.

I suppose, he thought, I can offer a really good lay and that's about it. And really, deep introspection never was his forte. His general avoidance of it was probably why his feelings crept up on him so stealthily, and then once he realised they were there, why he couldn't quite decide what to do with them.

Or at least, Kel helped him reach a decision, with a kiss when she came to Fort Steadfast for Raoul's wedding. Emboldened, perhaps, with a glass or two of the honey mead that been brought out after the newlyweds retired from the party, but followed up in the days after with more kisses and urgent fumbling in the moments they found themselves alone.

"You know," whispered Kel, "I think the stable hay lofts are deserted just after the dinner bell."

"Are you joking? Because you've brought this up so often that I can't tell anymore." Dom grinned. "I'm tempted to take you up on it, but Kel, there are _bugs_ in the hay. And I thought you didn't like stable lofts."

"I was only half joking," admitted Kel, blushing. "But if you really don't want to…"

"You're not joking! Well, ah, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that there are better places than a stable loft."

"Like…?"

"A bed, maybe? Not mine—there are no private rooms in the barracks."

"So we're back to the stable loft, because I'm bunking with Yuki," sighed Kel. "I don't think she'd be impressed if I evicted her."

"Alas, things are not arranged for our convenience," agreed Dom. They left the office they'd been in and headed for the dining hall as the bells went. He wondered if he should've pointed out that the stables were in the other direction, but he was hungry after missing lunch that day.

In the end, it was the departure of some knights that saw Neal with a room to himself, and Yuki lost little time in shifting her things to his quarters. Kel whispered for Dom to meet her as she passed through the mess hall.

The kindling was alight quickly under his hands, and he put aside the flint and steel. Kel joined him and they huddled together to warm their hands. Kel's room was in the old stone part of the fort, that never really seemed to warm up.

"It's so cold," she said, pressing her fingers to her cheeks and looking at him.

"I have a plan to warm you up," he replied, pulling her hands into his. They were certainly colder than his, and far too cold to lay on his unprotected skin.

"You could put more wood on the fire?"

"That's part of it," he agreed, "…but not all of it."

He let go of her fingers and fossicked around for a couple of bigger bits of wood, and laid them carefully on the kindling sticks.

"You're going to have to explain your plan to me," teased Kel.

"Well, we're going to start by warming your fingers over the fire," he explained, smiling. "And then when your fingers are warmed, we could remove our tunics and shirts."

"Hm… that seems counterintuitive. How is removing our clothes going to help keep us warm?" said Kel. She said it with only a small smile, but Dom could detect the laughter in her eyes and voice.

"Well, the idea is that it's easier to share body heat without clothes in the way," he explained.

"I'm not so good with theory. I think I'll need a practical demonstration to really understand," she complained.

"I prefer practical application of theory, too," he agreed, putting one last big log on the fire. He hoped it was hot enough to take as they kissed and began to fumble with one another's clothes on their way to her bed.

It was near dawn when Dom woke and noticed the dying embers. He slipped out of bed and over the cold flagstones to draw another log into the hearth. It was probably too late, he thought, even as he blew on the embers—they looked too small to get the dense log to catch, and there was no more kindling left.

A rustling from the bed alerted him to the fact that Kel was awake.

"Don't worry about that," she said. "Someone will light it later, and I'll not be coming back here until tonight."

She was picking up their clothes from last night and shaking them out, putting her own clothes on as she went. He accepted his breeches and put them on.

"I suppose I'm too late to sneak back to the barracks."

"Oh well," said Kel, smiling ruefully. "I don't think we're a well-kept secret around here anyway."

"We're a thing?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," she admitted, meeting his eyes slowly. "I'd like to be. But I'm…"

"I know," he whispered. She didn't have to remind him of how hard she'd worked to be where she was now. He knew that romance would come second for her, but wasn't it the same for him?

Her eyes searched his. "Do you want to be?"

"I would," he admitted. "But my first duty is to the Own."

She nodded decisively and said, "Then we make no promises to one another."

Dom wasn't expecting to feel a pit open in his gut at the brief look of relief that crossed her face. He pushed it away as they finished dressing. He threw a glance at the hearth—the small flames that he's coaxed from the embers had died down. It would smoulder for a while, and then go out.

Kel's voice brought him back to earth.

"Dom?"

"Hm?"

"I enjoyed last night. I hope we can do it again, even if we're not a thing." She smiled shyly as she said it.

"Me too," he agreed.

It panned out as he thought it would. They saw one another infrequently, and often when they did, there were other more pressing matters to deal with. After a year or two, their letters became less flirtatious, and more simply friendly. They spent less effort making opportunities to be intimate, until eventually they stopped taking them when presented. Companionship and comradeship never left.

When Kel wrote about her new courtship with another man, Dom couldn't find that the news upset him at all. The feelings that had crept up on him, had crept away almost as silently. They'd made no promises to one another, though he was gratified that Kel had told him. It proved to him, at least, that trust and friendship remained.

Neal tip-toed around it more carefully.

"Have you seen Kel since you've been back?" asked Neal. It was a month out from Midwinter, and Dom had just returned to Corus a couple of days prior.

Dom looked at Neal. His cousin was studying an embroidered silk purse with more attention than Dom thought the ugly thing deserved. They were perusing the Corus markets together, looking for last minute gifts for friends and family.

"No. She wrote me a month ago, I got it when we passed through Queensgrace."

"Did she…"

"Tell me about her new lover? Of course she has."

Neal let go of the ugly purse and looked at him. "Is everything fine between you two?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" Neal raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It's been all over for a while. We both knew going in that it wasn't going to last."

Neal nodded and picked the purse up again. "Do you think Aunt Lavinia would like this?"

"Sure," Dom agreed. "It's hideous, but you're her favourite nephew."

"You don't really care," sighed Neal, putting it down again. They left the shop and ambled onward.

Neal picked out a nice silk scarf for his aunt, and a ruby hair pin for Yuki. They were married now and expecting their first child, a topic that Neal dwelt on at length.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave the Own and settle down with someone?" asked Neal.

"Certain," Dom replied, laughing. "There's a vacancy for Captain coming up soon, which all but has my name on it."

As they trudged back up to the Palace, Dom knew that he'd not have it any other way. He even looked forward to seeing Kel again and talking about their separate futures, though he hoped she would ride with his company sometimes when he was Captain.

He had no regrets.


End file.
